


cat and mouse

by itisjosh



Series: fo4 but it's mcyt [1]
Category: Fallout 4, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunters, Coursers (Fallout 4), Developing Friendships, Escape, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Humor, Internal Monologue, Kidnapping, Memory Loss, On the Run, Sad Ending, The Institute (Fallout), Wilbur Soot-centric, YOU DONT NEED TO HAVE PLAYED FO4 TO UNDERSTAND, but close enough, depends on how u read it lmao, for context w1 is wilbur, i mean is it really kidnapping, it could be both, not really bounty hunters, technically kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: He's blatantly ignored by literally every single person in the Institute - from scientists to Coursers to other synths, no one even looks at him. It's exactly what W1 needs, and he plans on using that lack of attention to finally escape.Again.Admittedly, he's escaped from the Institute almost twenty times before.And every single time, he's been brought back.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: fo4 but it's mcyt [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099001
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	cat and mouse

W1-24 knows very fucking well that he's a synth, and he really doesn't like that very much. W1 stands a little straighter as a Courser walks by him, disappearing a second later. The more advanced synths, Coursers, are always the worst, especially since they all know him very well. W1 struggles to keep a smile off of his face as he's blatantly ignored by literally every single person in the Institute - from scientists to Coursers to other synths, no one even _looks_ at him. It's exactly what W1 needs, and he plans on using that lack of attention to finally escape.

Again.

Admittedly, he's escaped from the Institute almost twenty times before. And every single time, he's been brought back. W1 is well aware that he could escape for good, that he could go to that one city downtown and get his face and his memory wiped, but he hasn't done that. He knows that he could leave and never look back, that he could save himself from this fucking nightmare of his life, but he just..hasn't. And he knows that his reasoning is really stupid, that it's ridiculous as of to why he keeps coming back, but he can't _stop_. 

W1 keeps letting himself get caught by a Courser called T8-52, otherwise known as _Technoblade_. W1 doesn't quite know why he's taken a fondness to the Courser, but he _has_ , and it's ruining his chances of escaping. He doesn't know why, he really doesn't, and he wishes that he could stop falling right into this stupid game of cat and mouse. It's _fun_ , maybe that's his problem. W1 is well aware that he's not only a synth, but he's also a synth with an addiction to adrenaline, and he thinks that may just be the reason he keeps letting himself be caught. 

He shifts on his feet, moving away from where he had been standing. No one looks at him, opting to go about their day to day lives. W1 has been caught so many times that most Coursers know better than to let him start moving without tracking him, but alas. W1 lets himself smile a little as he puts his hands in his pockets, wandering up the stairs that lead to the teleportation area of the Institute. Normally, only Coursers would be able to teleport him and themselves out of here, but W1 has learnt how to leave all by himself. He's had a lot of practice, after all. W1 hears someone shout out behind him, turning his head slightly to see what's going on. A Courser has another synth in a headlock, and tens of Institute scientists are pouring out from their stations, guns and clipboards out. 

W1 thinks that it's fucking disgusting what they're doing to them. They don't care about synths, the scientists don't give a shit. All they are are pieces of metal and polyester, made to be their little playthings. It's the reason W1 keeps leaving, it's the reason that he keeps escaping. No matter how many times they wipe his memory, he always manages to figure it out. It might help that he writes himself little notes, leaving them in places that no one else would think to look. No matter how many times they wipe his mind, W1 is, ultimately, still himself. They can't take that away from him unless they decide to kill him, which they haven't done yet. 

No, the Institute won't kill him. That would be an insult to their own pride, it would make them look bad, even if only internally. They're all so convinced that they can erase his mind often enough, and maybe _this time_ it'll actually work. W1 grins, bouncing on his heels even though he knows that he shouldn't. Although he feels bad for his fellow synth, part of him finds it hard to care. If they didn't want to be caught, they would have hidden themselves better, they wouldn't have made it obvious. W1 has had months of practice to keep getting it right, to learn how to leave and how to not get caught while doing so. 

W1 knows that he could live his life above-ground and never have to worry about any of this ever again, but at the same time..

Seeing Technoblade is _fun_. It's nice, it's exciting. It's refreshing and while it isn't new, it always feels like the first time. W1 doesn't remember his past encounters with the man, but he's written them down before he was strapped back down to a chair and shot in the head with something that never manages to quite remove all of his memories. W1 doesn't know if he's just that stubborn or if the gun they use just isn't powerful enough, but either way, he won't complain. He grins a little as he slips up the stairs, grabbing the Courser cloak that lays on the floor by the stairwell, just waiting for him. W1 doesn't know when he put that there, but he's glad that he did. Maybe it was the second time he got caught. 

To be fair, he did get caught legitimately sometimes. At first, he was dragged back kicking and screaming because he was _so scared_ , he was _terrified_ of what they would do to him. And then when he woke up, not entirely sure where he was but vaguely certain that he needed to leave, W1 became much less scared and much more annoyed. W1 tosses off his white synth shirt, kicking it aside as he tugs on the Courser cloak, adjusting it so it doesn't fall off of him. W1 sighs, looking towards the unofficial exit of the Institute. He swears that someone else is in the room watching him, but he can't see anything or anyone. He doesn't want to chalk it up to nerves, because he's very rarely wrong when he feels eyes on his back, but that's what he does. 

W1 isn't going to lie to himself - he'll be back here eventually. Whether it happens in a few days or a few weeks is up for debate, but eventually, he'll be back here in this exact spot. He always is, he always will be. At least, until they stop sending Technoblade after him. That'll probably be the day that W1 lets himself get a face change and adopt a new name and identity. But until then, he'll keep playing this absolutely fucked game of cat and mouse, and he doesn't think he'll regret any of it. W1 steps into the chamber that'll take him out to Cambridge, smiling as he feels something like wind whoosh around him, pulling his body up. 

Another day, another escape. 

W1 wonders how much of a headstart Technoblade plans on giving him this time.

* * *

Technoblade isn't the one who catches him this time. 

A Courser who he doesn't know the name of takes him by the arm, dragging him along. W1 has stopped fighting against this a long time ago, figuring that it was useless. He knows that he'll come back here, anyways. He'll escape again no matter how many times they try to shackle him down. "I really don't see why they don't just kill you," the Courser sighs, his eyes narrowed as he grips W1's arm tighter. "It would be much easier to simply get rid of you rather than to keep fetching you." 

W1 rolls his eyes, opting not to say anything back. He spots a man with tusks jutting out of his mouth, and W1 feels his heart rate pick up, grinning at Technoblade as soon as he sees him. Technoblade blinks back at him, standing a little straighter. He looks away, crossing his arms against his chest, bandages going up and down the sides of his neck, black gauntlets strapped to his wrists. W1 figures that it's a new outfit that they've given him, since he's never seen it before. He figures that Technoblade will be the only Courser who wears that outfit, seeing as the Courser who has a hold of his arm is wearing the same cloak as usual. 

"Hello, Technoblade!" W1 calls out, grinning at the Courser, who glances back up at him. Technoblade always looks uncomfortable whenever W1 directly talks to him. W1 wonders if that's because he feels guilt for what he's doing. He wonders if it's because Technoblade feels bad for dragging synths back into their abusive homes, back down to their abusers who plan on scrapping them for parts. "I'm going back to the Institute!" W1 tells him, beaming a little more. He leans on the Courser by his side, though he's shoved away a second later. "I'm going to go get my memory wiped!" He laughs, jerking himself free of the Courser's grip, though he doesn't make any effort to run. He knows better by now. Plus, Coursers can teleport. W1 may be risky, but he's not an idiot. "You should come say hello to me while I'm in the medbay! Oh, I think that you should dye your hair pink, too! I think pink would look great on you! Okay, bye bye!" W1 salutes Technoblade before he's being grabbed again. 

He feels the world shift around him, dragging him straight through the earth. W1 gasps for air as his feet hit the Institute floor. He internally sighs, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of the underground fortress. "You're going to get him killed," the Courser glares at him, jerking his arm. "It's why he doesn't talk to you. You need to stop doing this, W1-24." 

W1 smiles, shaking his head as he laughs. "No. I think that, if _you_ really let me care, you'd just let him take care of me. Is it really that hard to accidentally lose a synth that keeps escaping?" W1 raises an eyebrow at the Courser. "You and I both know that I'll be gone in another week or so. I feel like you might as well just give up, shouldn't you?"

"And I feel like the scientists here should scrap you for your wires," the Courser shoots back. "You're annoying and not worth the time spent chasing you. As much as I.." he sighs. "I'm not supposed to be talking to you. Come on, W1-24. At least you don't fight back anymore." W1 laughs, beaming and waving at the synths that look at him in awe and horror as he walks by. Most of them know who he is and his legacy, most of them are afraid of him. Most of them avoid him. 

"I've got no reason to," W1 grins. "You know damn well that I'll be out of here soon enough."

W1 struts into the medbay where he knows very well he'll be tied down to a chair. He doesn't fight it as the scientists grab him, grinning up at them as his arms are shackled down. 

"I'll be back." He assures them, and everything goes black. 

* * *

W1 wonders how many times he's escaped the Institute. He thinks that it's somewhere in the fifties, but hell if he knows. He struts along the road, humming a melody to himself as he listens to the radio that hangs off of his backpack. W1 looks behind him when he hears something snap, raising his gun, pointing it at-

Technoblade. 

The Courser stares at him, and W1 can't help but notice the pink hair. "Hello," he grins, immediately relaxing. This game of cat and mouse lasted a little longer than it normally does, and W1 wonders why. "You got a new hairstyle," he motions to Technoblade's hair. "Well.." W1 looks over his shoulder, sighing. "You know, I was _supposed_ to finish up this mercenary job," he clicks his tongue. "So, as much as I adore you, Technoblade, I think that I won't be coming back to the Institute for a few more days. I'll meet you back here in about..hm," W1 tilts his head to the side. "Ten hours should be enough. Alright, bye bye!"

W1 starts to walk again, fully expecting Technoblade to catch up with him, but the Courser simply..doesn't. W1 turns back around, frowning at him. "What?" Technoblade frowns back. "You said you'd meet me back here. I'll be waitin'." 

"What, you're not going to drag me back?" W1 quirks an eyebrow. "I thought you were against giving me my freedom, Technoblade." The Courser shrugs, looking away. He heaves a sigh, his shoulders raising with his chest. He's strong, W1 notes. Well, of course he is, he's a Courser. But Technoblade seems to be stronger than the average Courser, and W1 assumes that's so the Institute can have one Courser that they go to for everything. 

"You're just gonna escape again, anyways," Technoblade smiles, running a hand through his hair. "What's the issue in takin' you back now, or in ten hours? Either way, you'll be out of that place before the week ends. You always are. And I'll come back up to the surface to drag you right back." 

W1 grins at him, turning back around and marching right up to Technoblade. "You know, I think that we would make excellent friends, Technoblade. It's a shame that your job is to stop me from living." 

"You could get away if you wanted," Technoblade crosses his arms. "You're doin' this on purpose. I don't feel bad when it comes to catchin' you. You do it on purpose, it isn't like the Institute doesn't know that you're supposedly difficult to catch," he smiles. "So..ten hours, yeah? I'll wait here for you, W1-24."

"You know," W1 leans back on his heels, pursing his lips. "I think that I'm getting tired of that name. I wouldn't know what to change it to, but I'm not a big fan of W1 anymore. Any suggestions, Technoblade?" 

Technoblade shrugs, looking down at his feet for half a second. "I'm not good at names," he admits. "Just..go with somethin' that makes you happy, I guess. I don't care, that's not my job," he sighs. "You really are just wastin' your time talkin' to me, W1. I'm not gonna give you an extra hour." 

"Oh, Technoblade," W1 grins at him, elbowing him in the side before he starts to walk again. He turns his head over his shoulder, beaming at the Courser as he goes. "You always do."

* * *

W1 sighs when he feels eyes on his back, turning around to face Technoblade. The Courser is perched up on a building, staring down at him. As soon as Technoblade locks eyes with him, W1 swears that they both smile at the same time. "Hello, Technoblade!" W1 calls up, waving his hand that doesn't have the gun in it. "I was wondering when you'd show up!" He grins, leaning on his heels, swaying on his feet as he listens to the radio that hangs off of his backpack. He found this backpack around the area where he always escapes, and W1 figured that he had left that there before. "Have you come to bring me back today, or are you just here to say hello?" 

Technoblade snorts, teleporting to the ground, standing directly in front of him. "I figured that I'd give you a couple more days before I took you back," he pauses, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "W1, I really don't think it's a good idea for you to let me catch you," Technoblade tells him, his tone suddenly serious. "They're gettin' tired of this. At first it was funny and it was somethin' for them to poke fun at, but you keep managin' to get out, and they're afraid that the other synths are gonna do the same thing. I think that they want to kill you, W1. I'm bein' serious. I don't.." 

W1 breathes out, nodding. He looks away, staring off at the city in the distance. "You're not bringing me back this time."

"I'm afraid not," Technoblade gives him a sad smile. "It isn't like you wanted to be brought back, anyways." 

"Well, of course not," W1 sighs. "But it was nice to have a friend." Technoblade blinks at him, frowning as he takes a step back. 

"We weren't..we're not friends. Don't say that. You shouldn't say that, W1. You're not.."

W1 smiles at him, reaching out to squeeze Technoblade's shoulder. "We're friends, Technoblade. What other word would describe us?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. "Alright, I.." W1 sighs again, wondering why his chest hurts so bad. "You be safe then, okay? I suppose I'll..get my mind wiped. Willingly, this time. But.." W1 looks away, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to forget you. I don't want to forget who I am and where I came from."

"It's safer that way," Technoblade murmurs. "It'll be safer for you. It's better if you just don't know you're a synth. It'll make it harder for any of the others to find you. You should get a face wipe, too. You need a new identity, you need to be someone else. You need to forget everythin', W1. It'll be so much safer if you don't remember anythin'. It'll make it easier." 

"I know," W1 breathes out. "I know it will. But even when I kept getting my mind wiped at the Institute, I never really forgot. I never forgot for long, at least. What if that happens again?" He asks. "What if I remember, and then I keep playing the game?"

Technoblade smiles softly at him, and W1 thinks it may be the first time that he's ever seen the Courser genuinely smile. "You're just stubborn like that, huh?" He ducks his head, chuckling under his breath. "No, W1, I think it'll be okay. I think you'll forget. Maybe you can ask them to keep certain memories, or somethin' like that. They can do that, right? Or- they can write it down, they can make you write a journal of who you are and all that." 

W1 nods, looking away again. "I really, really don't want to forget you, Technoblade. You made my life worth living."

"Don't say that," Technoblade shakes his head. "Don't say those things. Don't. It makes it harder for both of us. It makes it harder for me to watch you walk away." W1 smiles, reaching out to grab Technoblade's hand before he can protest. 

"We'll meet again," W1 assures him. "We always seem to manage that, don't we? You always find me, no matter how well I try to hide," he pauses, feeling like he's about to cry. W1 doesn't understand why, he wasn't even close to Technoblade. They weren't even friends, were they? W1 blinks back tears, his throat collapsing in on itself. He feels like he's being ripped away from his best friend, from someone he subtly considered an older brother. "We'll meet again, Technoblade. I promise. We'll meet again." 

Technoblade squeezes his hand back before he lets go, and W1 wishes that he hadn't. "We always do," he agrees. "I'll see you later, W1." He doesn't say anything after that, and W1 assumes that that's the end. 

He turns away, walking silently down the road that leads to Goodneighbour. 

W1 turns his head, looking back at the Courser who he thought of as his older brother, someone he considered his friend. He raises one hand, weakly waving at the man who stands there silently. Technoblade gives him a weaker smile, waving back. W1 quickly turns away, swallowing back all the words he wants to say, blinking back his tears. 

W1 keeps walking, and this time, he doesn't turn back.

* * *

_"Normally, synths write something to give them a basic idea of who they were," Dr. Amari tells him. "Do you want to do that?"_

_"I think I'll remember," W1 smiles. "I always seem to manage to remember," he looks away, picking up the piece of paper bound with leather that the doctor offered him. He picks up a pen after that, clicking it a few times to ease his nerves. "But I guess I might as well, just in case," he scribbles a few lines to get the ink flowing, breathing in. "What should I write?"_

_Dr. Amari smiles at him. "Whatever you want to remember, W1."_

_"Okay."_

_He stares down at the paper for a few long minutes, his hands shaking._

~~_1\. Technoblade_ ~~

_2\. Name is_

_He blinks, frowning at the sudden wet spot on the paper. W1 reaches up, wiping away his tears._

_2\. Name is_

_"What's a good name?" He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. "I don't know any names other than W1. But that's too obvious, isn't it?"_

_"Mm," Dr. Amari agrees. "Did anyone ever call you anything else?"_

_W1 shakes his head._

_"We will meet again." The words ring in his head for a second._

_He stares at the paper._

~~_2\. Name is Will_ ~~

_2\. Name is Wilbur_

_"Okay," he looks up, swallowing. "I'm ready."_

_W1, Wilbur, sets the paper away from him, leaning back on the table. He stares up at the ceiling, wondering why he wishes that it was pure white, like the Institute._

_He hears the soft whirring from behind him, sees Amari stand above him. W1, Wilbur, closes his eyes, forcing his heart to still, to calm down._

_W1, fuck, Wilbur, thinks that he'll remember. He always seems to remember._

_And, he thinks, even if he doesn't, Technoblade will._

_But, he smiles, how could he ever forget about Technoblade?_

_They'll meet again._

_He's sure of it._


End file.
